That Cold, Late Night
by fluorescentgirl19
Summary: Mordecai and Rigby forget to salt the front porch and Benson ends up with a broken leg. But Mordecai's attempts to fix the situation could make things more troublesome. Mordeson. Don't like, don't read.
1. Unexpected

It was a freak ice storm in the middle of March that started everything. Snow and ice covered the park, with just enough on the ground to make walking hazardous. Which is why Mordecai and Rigby groaned so loudly when Benson assigned them the job of salting the sidewalks and stairs of the park.

"Aww, what, that's totally lame," Rigby complained loudly, with Mordecai nodding his head in agreement.

"Yeah, like, what if we break our necks out there trying to do it?" the blue jay questioned.

Benson put his hand on his glass head, sighing angrily as his color changed from pink to red. "Then you won't have to worry about _me _breaking them for _not doing your jobs._" He kept the threat contained, but obvious to the duo.

And so, Rigby and Mordecai were out in their winter coats and gloves, dispensing salt onto every walkway they could think of.

"Ugh, this is taking a million years," Rigby groaned, dragging the bag behind him as the two friends walked carefully back to the house.

"Dude, whatever, we're almost done," Mordecai countered, emptying the last of his salt bag behind them. "We just have to get back to the house and put your bag away, and then we can stay and play Strong Johns all night."

"Nah, man, I got plans tonight."

Mordecai stopped. "You've got plans?" He asked in disbelief. "With who?"

Rigby smirked. "I got me a movie date with Maaaaaargareeeeeeet!" He spun in circles away from the blue jay, slipping on the ice and falling on his ass, making Mordecai snicker.

It had been a few months since Mordecai and Margaret had called it splits for good. When asked about it, Margaret would say they were better friends than boyfriend and girlfriend, and Mordecai would blush and agree, nodding his head, refusing to say anything else. He had nothing but care for his friend, and wished her the best on her road to love.

Still, he wasn't sure Rigby was the best choice, but that was for Margaret to decide.

"Dude, are you sure you're okay with this?" Rigby's question made Mordecai snap out of it.

"Yeah, dude, I told you, we're just friends," he said defensively. Rigby looked distrustingly at him when Mordecai smiled back at the raccoon. "I hope you guys have an awesome date tonight."

Rigby gave him a rare smile of trust. "Thanks, man. Now let's get this taken care of so I can get ready for my DATE!" He shouted the last part and Mordecai shook his head laughing as they approached the house.

Still, as they dump the bag of salt next to the porch, Mordecai can't help feel as though they're forgetting something.

"Dude, why is this bag still so full?" He asked Rigby, who frowned and shrugged.

"I don't know man, guess we just didn't need it all-"

The front door opens, revealing Benson in his winter garb. He has on his brown leather jacket and crosses his hands in front of his chest, in a way to keep the cold away. He waves to someone in the house before beginning towards the stairs when Mordecai has the sudden realization:

_Shit. We forgot to salt the steps of the house._

He tries to call out to Benson, but it's too late. He slips on the top ice-covered step and goes hurtling down to the unforgiving ground.

Mordecai stares on in horror as Rigby turns, wide-eyed and afraid.

"I guess that was why the bag was still kinda full-" the raccoon mumbled.

Mordecai fled to Benson's side, too nervous to even worry about punching Rigby in that moment. "Benson, are you okay?" he asks worriedly.

The gumball machine man turns around angrily, his cheeks a flaming red.

"DO I LOOK LIKE I'M FU-"

He tries to stand and suddenly he's back on the ground, slamming his fist into the ice in pain, as he tries to hold up his right foot the best he can.

"Benson, my good man? Whatever is the matter?" Pops appears from the front door, with Skips following behind him, concern etched on both of their faces.

Mordecai feels even worse now. "Me and Rigby forgot to salt the steps and Benson slipped," he explained worriedly to the two older men above him. "I think something's wrong with his foot."

Skips carefully makes his way down the stairs and wordlessly touches Benson's leg. Benson sucks in air while squinting his eyes, clearly in pain, but trying to be strong. The yeti looks gravely at Mordecai.

"He has to go to the hospital."

"What, no, Skips, I am perfectly fi-"

Benson tries to convince the elder man, but instead gasps as he attempts to put any weight on his right leg at all.

Skips looks at Mordecai while Pops looks on in anxious worry from the top step and Mordecai swallows grimly and nods.

"We'll help you out, it's the least we can do", he promises.

Rigby frowns, anticipating his date in the process of being ruined, and Benson is helpless to the trio as they load him into the cart and drive to the hospital.

* * *

**Been a long time since I wrote anything, but here is the newest story my mind has thought of. Little boring in the first chapter, but I promise it'll get more interesting in the future.**


	2. Guilt

A broken leg.

Specifically, a fractured tibia, the doctors had told the four as Benson's x-rays came back. The gumball machine man fumed silently, his face a bright red as the doctor told him he would need a cast for the next two weeks, then if it was better, he could maybe get a walking cast. All in all, it would be at least six weeks before Benson could walk normally again.

Mordecai felt awful, especially when Benson came back into the waiting room, being pushed in a wheelchair by a nurse, a fresh, white cast on his lower leg to his ankle. The nurse held a pair of crutches under one arm and Benson was grinding his teeth as she told them all he would need to use them for the first two weeks, to avoid further injury to his leg.

"I hate crutches," Benson growled as the nurse turned away. He appeared to glare specifically at Mordecai and Rigby as he said that statement, making Mordecai look guiltily away. Rigby took no notice, just texting furiously on a cell phone, smirking to himself as he thought of witty things to say.

"Don't worry, Benson," Skips tried to reason. "We can help ya up to your apartment and make sure you're settled before we leave."

Benson gave a tense, "Thank you," as the nurse came back.

She wheeled him out to front, where they brought the cart around and helped Benson in, Rigby holding the crutches in the back. As they drove to Benson's place, Mordecai would keep looking at Benson, then away, feeling so guilty he didn't know what to do with himself.

_It's totally my fault this happened, _he thought glumly. Sure, Rigby was partially at blame, but Mordecai was the more responsible of the two, so important things like making sure everything was actually salted should fall under his fault. Especially when it comes to Benson getting injured.

He winced and groaned quietly, rubbing his temples as he thought about all the things that he'd have to do now. Pay for Benson's hospital bill, get a new job, fall off the face of the Earth…

He jerked to attention as the cart stopped in front of an apartment building. Rigby and Skips were already getting out, and he hurried to join them, not wanting to mess things us more than they already were.

"Rigby, you bring the crutches up. Mordecai, we have to get Benson up ourselves, since this apartment building doesn't have an elevator."

Mordecai froze at that, seeing the glower that Benson was giving him for having to be so close to the jay. He tried to protest.

"Isn't that, like, illegal? What about handicapped people?" he blabbered.

Benson sighed angrily. "Just get me up the freaking stairs, so I can lay down," he growled.

Mordecai complied, looking away from his boss as he slid the gumball machine man's arm over his shoulders. The climb up the stairs was silent and seemed to take ages, but they finally arrived at Benson's door.

Skips opened the door and they carefully helped Benson to the couch, Rigby laying his crutches next to him. Benson looked at the objects with hatred, and then turned back to the trio.

"Thank you for getting me home," he said tensely. "Now please get out so I can finally try to relax."

They all knew that wasn't actually going to happen, but none were going to call him out on it. Skips told him to get better, Rigby gave a shrug and a bye, and Mordecai muttered apologetic goodbyes under his breath as they slunk out of his apartment.

* * *

"Good, we're back with plenty of time to get ready for my DATE!" Rigby hollered as he scurried up to the bedroom, probably to put on an indecent amount of cologne.

Mordecai sighed and flopped down on the couch, his head falling back so he was staring at the ceiling. God, why did he have to forget the salt? And why did it have to be Benson? Anyone else would have brushed it off or at least not made him feel so bad, not give him those kind of looks of pure hatred like he was the spawn of Satan.

Pops suddenly came into view above him, making Mordecai jump.

"Mordecai, my dear fellow, I'm sorry if I spooked you," the lollipop man said worriedly, wringing his hands as he came around the couch.

Mordecai laughed uneasily, getting up. "Nah, it's okay Pops, you're fine."

"Well, that's good, at least." Pops looked rather nervous still. "How is Benson doing?"

Mordecai looked down, his stomach lurching once more. "He's got to have a cast on for at least two weeks, so, y'know…" he waved his arms uneasily. "Not great."

Pops sighed. "Oh, what a bad show. I wish there was something we could do for him."

Mordecai scratched his head, thinking. He looked toward the kitchen and the knot in his stomach lessened just slightly as a small smile appeared on his face.

"Actually, can you help me out for a minute Pops?"

* * *

Rigby finally came down the stairs, an hour later, wearing a Fist Pump t-shirt and waves of cologne wafting off him.

"Hey, Mordecai, gonna see me off before I go to my DATE?" he hollered through the house.

"Can't, dude," his voice answered from the kitchen. "Kinda busy at the moment."

Rigby frowned as he started to approach the kitchen. What could be more important than bro support at a time like this?

The sight he saw as he entered made his mouth hang open wide.

"Dude…are you cooking?"

Mordecai turned, his face slightly red as he held up a wooden spoon he was using to stir the pot on the stove. "Shut up, man, I'm trying to do something nice!" he said defensively.

Rigby came closer, smelling what was in the pot. "Dude, I'm just surprised you know how to cook. What is that?"

Mordecai smiled slightly as he turned back to the pot. "Well, I actually had to have Pops help me with getting everything ready, but this is chicken noodle soup."

"Who's it for?"

Mordecai's smile dropped slightly. "Well, it's, I mean, since we effed up so bad today, I just thought-"

Rigby cut him off with a loud guffaw. "Oh wow, all this for BENSON?" he laughed, only stopping when Mordecai angrily punched him, sending him to the floor, leaving him whimpering.

"I just thought it'd be nice, okay? So shut up," he mumbled, stirring the soup some more.

Rigby got up, rubbing his arm and scoffing. "Well, whatever. I'm out, man."

Mordecai waved a goodbye as Rigby left the room, starting to whistle. The blue jay heard the door slam and he sighed, grateful that no one else would be around. He found a container and poured the soup into it, after finally becoming satisfied with the flavor. He grabbed the keys for the cart and got in, starting it up and making sure the soup would be fine.

He hurried to Benson's, before he could chicken out.

* * *

**New update! Possibly one more tonight if inspiration wins out instead of sleepiness. **

**Love the reviews; thank you so much for reading and taking the time to tell me you liked it.**

**Another soon, lovelies. Ta-ta for now.**


	3. Peace Offering

_Okay, just, go up the stairs. Up, the stairs. That involves moving out of the cart. Like, now. Okay, liiiiike nooooow._

Mordecai's body stayed buckled into the cart, nervousness keeping him bolted to his seat. He was nervous about what Benson was going to say; hell, he was terrified of what he was going to do when he saw him standing outside his apartment. The best reaction would be him shutting the door on his face, so he could leave without saying a thing and just place the soup outside. The worst would probably be getting screamed at and then having said soup poured over his head.

He looked at the container next to him and sighed. It was going to get cold if he let his cowardice win out any longer. So he slowly undid his seat belt and drudgingly climbed the steps up to his boss's apartment, soup in hand.

When he was finally in front of the door, he hesitated and tried to listen to figure out what Benson was doing; he'd really hate himself if he woke Benson up. All he heard was the soft drone of a television. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _Here goes nothing._

He knocked three times, not daring to say a word. He heard a slight grumble, followed by, "Coming." The movement of something against the floor (_his crutches_) and then the sound of Benson approaching the door made Mordecai all the more nervous, but he stood his ground with a gulp.

The door opened, and Benson struggled to get around it with his crutches to see who was there. _Damn things, never learned how to use these the right way._

He looked up and saw the blue jay with a furrowed brow and a weak smile. "H-hey Benson," Mordecai stammered, giving a slight wave.

Benson glares back at the bird. _He has the nerve to come here, even after what he did (didn't) do today?!_ His face grew red and he decided to give the bird a piece of his mind.

Mordecai saw what was coming and braced himself for the onslaught of verbal attacks, and the possibility of getting fired.

"What the hell are you doing here?! Causing me to break my leg isn't even trouble for you to cause today? What, you gonna push me off my crutches too?" The gumball machine man yelled, hobbling closer to the jay.

Mordecai took a step back. "No, no, I just-"

"I gave you ONE thing to do, just ONE little thing! And you couldn't even manage that without someone getting hurt!"

Mordecai tried to defend himself. "We did everything else! We just forgot-"

"You forgot the ONE place that has the most foot traffic?! Oh, please! You and that freaking raccoon were just ready to slack off like always! And you could've killed-"

As Benson got ready to take a step closer, the left crutch slipped out from from him. As he began to fall, only one thought was clear in his mind: _I fucking despise crutches._

He closed his eyes and braced himself for the impact of the ground, but instead felt a soft wing grab him firmly and steady him. He opened his eyes to see Mordecai looking wide eyed back at him, holding him like he was some damsel in distress.

An awkward moment passed. Mordecai chuckled nervously and helped to prop him back up to his feet, picking up the fallen crutch. "Uh, you okay?"

Benson stared back at him, a bit shaken. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine, thanks." He then noticed the container in Mordecai's other hand. "What's that?"

Mordecai looked down at the soup, like he had no recollection of it being there, and then recognition flashed in his eyes and his cheeks grew red as he held it out for Benson to see.

"Oh! It's, uh, it's soup, that Pops and I made for you! To, y'know, feel better and stuff," he said awkwardly.

Benson looked at the container, torn. On one hand, he was still furious with Mordecai. On the other, he hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning, and his stomach was eagerly beginning to grumble in anticipation of that soup.

His pride won out. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'm perfectly capable of making my own meal," he said pointedly, though his stomach protested, along with his arms, which were already not agreeing with the death traps he had to hold down to stand properly. He turned away and meant to shut the door, but he heard the blue jay sigh and stopped.

"Look, I'm really sorry Benson," Mordecai said sadly, looking down at his rejected soup. "I know we really messed up today, and I'm really sorry that you got hurt by it. It was an accident." He sighed again. "I understand if you totally hate us now, but I just thought I should try to do something to apologize before you fire me."

Benson looked back at the blue jay and his anger fled, leaving a little frustration and sympathy in its place. He sighed as Mordecai had and came closer to the bird, who looked up in confusion.

"Listen, I don't hate you. You just make me very frustrated. A lot. Almost everyday. But I don't hate you, and I'm not going to fire you." The bird's eyes open in amazement as Benson looked down. "I know it was an accident and I was just upset and in pain," he watched the bird hang his head guiltily, "but I appreciate you apologizing."

Mordecai looked up and smiled slightly, which Benson returned. His stomach growled loudly in protest, making both men look at it and Benson blush.

"Are you sure you don't want my peace offering?" Mordecai teased, holding up the container.

Benson turned his face away so his blushing cheeks wouldn't be seen. "I guess it wouldn't hurt," he grumbled quietly, hobbling back into his apartment as Mordecai's smile got brighter behind him.

"Don't forget to shut the door once you're in."

The jay nodded and closed the front door after him.

* * *

**I promised another update, and here it is. I'll try to have the next one out tomorrow night, so stay tuned.**

**Much love to you readers. Mwah.**


	4. Staying In

"So, uh, where are your bowls?"

Benson sighed, aggravated, from his spot on the couch. As soon as the blue jay had closed the door to his apartment, it felt like the nurse from the hospital was back. Mordecai had made him sit on the couch, his right leg propped on a pillow on the coffee table, and looked sternly at him if he even tried to get up. So he was resigned to the couch until further notice, while the clueless bird went through his kitchen to prepare supper for the two of them.

"They're in the upper left cabinet," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. _Things would be so much easier if you just let me show you where they were._

He was grateful for not relying on those stupid crutches though. He gave them a dirty look as he heard Mordecai hum as he went through his cabinets.

Mordecai found the bowls and quickly found the silverware after, ladling out the right amount of soup for two bowls. He picked up one bowl and one spoon and brought them carefully to Benson, who took them with a quiet, "Thanks." The bird smiled and went back to get his own bowl, when he realized his predicament.

_Should I sit with Benson? _

Seating had never been a big issue before, but Benson's couch was really just big enough for two people, so sitting with him would be a little close for comfort. On the other hand, the only other place to sit would be in the kitchen, and that just felt awkward.

Mordecai stood, holding his bowl and chewing his lip as Benson prepared to take the first sip. He glanced over to see the bird and rolled his eyes.

"I'm not going to bite, okay?" he grumbled, trying to scoot as close as he could to one side of the couch. "Come sit down."

His decision made, he sat down next to Benson, careful to avoid eyes with the gumball machine man, though he could feel his heat, they were so close. He glanced down at the tiny distance between their legs. Just one centimeter away from feeling the cool metal against his leg.

He snapped out of his thoughts as he heard a quiet slurp next to him, turning to look at Benson. The gumball machine man smiled slightly, bringing his eyes up to Mordecai's face, a hint of warmth behind them. "This is actually pretty good, thank you," he said sincerely, raising his spoon for another taste.

Mordecai grinned, a faint pink gracing his cheeks. "I can't take all the credit; Pops had the recipe, I just followed the instructions."

Benson still smiled, looking down at his bowl. The two slurped in silence for awhile. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, more like the kind of quiet that lets you appreciate things, like a delicious bowl of warm soup when you're feeling bad.

When Mordecai was done, he took Benson's empty bowl with him back to the kitchen, and prepared to do the dishes. He looked back at his boss as the water ran, wondering something.

"Hey, Benson, did you have any plans for tonight?"

Benson looked at the jay and shrugged, picking up the TV remote. "Nothing really. I thought if I got done with paperwork early enough-" _still have to do that when I come back tomorrow or the next day_, "I might go to a movie or the bar or something." He turned on the television and started flipping through channels. "Nothing special, though."

Mordecai's brow furrowed as he scrubbed the container in the soapy water. Benson seemed to always have work at the front of his mind, and he usually only seemed to go out when it was a work outing. He felt kind of bad he spoiled Benson's night. Even though the boss claimed that it wasn't special, he knew it was a rare occasion for the gumball machine man to do anything on a night that wasn't for the park.

He rinsed off the dish and looked back at Benson. _He seems so calm now, just sitting there_, Mordecai thought. He almost never saw his boss relaxed, thinking it impossible. Yet here he was, just vegging out in front of the TV, without a smile, but also without a frown on his face, and his eyes and forehead relaxed as he watched the local news.

Mordecai looked down at the container in his hands and thought about Benson's plans for the night.

"Hey, Benson, we could still go out if you wanted."

Benson smiled slightly and turned towards the bird. "Thanks, but I'd rather be the guy with the broken leg staying at home than be the drunk guy with the broken leg being a nuisance," he smirked.

Mordecai put down the dish and ran his feathers through his hair. "Naw, man, you wouldn't be a nuisance, it'd be fun." He thought of the two of them going to a movie and smiled. He didn't have any plans for the night anyway, and he kinda enjoyed hanging out with Benson one on one like this, when they were both relaxed and calm.

Benson shook his head. "You can go out if you want, but I'm stuck here for the night. And thanks for coming over and everything, but I'm okay now; I'm sure you have plans." He turned back to the TV, flipping through channels again. "Just make sure you lock the door on the way out, please."

Mordecai frowned. He didn't really want to leave just yet, not when he was finally getting to understand and even like his boss. He went to object, but another idea popped in his mind instead.

"What kind of drink do you get at the bars?"

Benson snorted. "Anything besides cheap beer; I suffered through that in my younger years and I think I'm old enough to spend a little more for a better taste."

All he heard was, "Sounds good," before the front door opened and shut.

Benson looked at the door in confusion and mild irritation. "He didn't lock it," he grumbled to himself, but stayed seated. He'd just have to lock it when he went to bed for the night.

In truth, he was kind of hoping for Mordecai to stay a little longer, but his disappointment was gone quickly. He was sure the bird had other important things planned for the night, and probably just wanted an opinion on what kind of drink to celebrate with.

After fifteen minutes of flipping through senseless shows, Benson sighed. _Guess I should get ready for bed, since there's absolutely nothing-_

The door opened suddenly, jerking his head up in surprise, only to see the grinning blue jay holding a bag with two bottles of wine, one red and one white, and a movie in his other hand. He opened his mouth, a question on his face.

Mordecai shut and locked the door behind him, his cheeky grin never leaving his face. "Since you couldn't go out tonight, I decided to bring the going's out to you, dude!" He held out the bag with both wine bottles. "Wasn't sure what kind you liked, so I got both."

Benson smiled, a genuine smile. _He actually…thought of me?_ The gumball machine man was touched.

Mordecai placed the bottles on the coffee table next to his cast as he went off in search of wine glasses- "Upper right cabinet" and when he came back, he showed Benson the movie.

"Dude. Have you seen this?" the bird questioned his boss with all the seriousness he could muster.

Benson rolled his eyes. "No, I've actually never seen the need to see _Shy Guy_," he snorted. "Isn't that a chick flick?"

Mordecai shook his head. "No, man, this is amazing, and we're gonna watch it, right now, and drink some wine."

As the bird readied the DVD player, he heard Benson groan, "Great, just what I wanted my night to end up like." Still, his smile remained as the bird poured him his first glass of wine and the film began.

* * *

**Bam! A fancy new update, just for you! Gets way more fun in the next one, so stay tuned.**


End file.
